


Oakland Sunset

by LadyBee



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Cousins, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Issues, I have no idea of what I'm doing, Rating Might Change, Redemption, cousin incest is a thing, there will be romance eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-19 02:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17593187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBee/pseuds/LadyBee
Summary: T’Challa didn’t listen to his will and why should he? The man was a king after all and Erik was now...A traitor at best. Death at the sunset would have been a blessing, but his damn cousin had a higher purpose for him. A tool to establish his reign in terms of legality and mercy; maybe even a misguided way to make emends with the past.





	1. Prologue

He opened his eyes slowly. Pain seemed like a distant dream now and Erik felt ready to meet his destiny. Would he face his father again? Looking at him with eyes full of regret and disappointment? Maybe he would face the ancient gods of his people and his forefathers.

The light around him was blinding and cold. He flexed his fingers and tired to move without success. Something was holding him down to a hard and cold surface that had a funny smell, slightly similar to that of a hospital. A wave of rage took him as his brain started to connect the dots. There was nothing remotely spiritual about that place even if the exquisite lines of the wakandan design had something otherworldly about it.

T’Challa didn’t listen to his will and why should he? The man was a king after all and Erik was now...A traitor at best. Death at the sunset would have been a blessing, but his damn cousin had a higher purpose for him. A tool to establish his reign in terms of legality and mercy; maybe even a misguided way to make emends with the past.

Well...Fuck the King’s conscience! Fuck that presumptuous playboy and the vibranium spoon he had in his mouth since birth! Erik had no need for his cousin’s mercy or excuses! Nothing would ever change the past. N’Jobu would still be dead in the end. He would still be and orphan boy from Oakland dreaming of a crown covered in blood to pay for the crimes perpetrated against his people.

What did T’Challa know of suffering and the cries of a people branded with violence from birth? Violence was the only language Erik ever knew and that had been a courtesy from his dead uncle.

The lab was silent except to the sound of his vital signals. There were no guards or doctors, but they kept him tied to the bed anyway. Well at least it was good to know that they respected him enough to recognize the risk of letting him run free. He would appreciate having someone near to scream at and let his rage out though.

“LET ME GO, YOU FUCKERS!” He roared as he tried to get rid from the cuffs in his arms.

Nothing happened for a while until a distant sound of steps announced the arrival of someone. He assumed it would be either a healer or one of those bald women to cut his throat for good. Damn! Those women were truly scary and formidable. To his disappointment what he saw was the distinguished silhouette of the baby genius in her colorful clothes and long braids held in a high bun.

“I knew he should have let you die.” The girl said with all the entitlement only royalty can afford. If he had his hands free he would gladly snap off her pretty neck for the audacity.

“That’s something we agree, princess.” That was the only answer he managed to craft.

“Quit the fuss, will you?” She asked in her fierce and sarcastic way. “I’m not deaf and my brother will be here soon. If you insist on being difficult, I’ll call the security team and they don’t like you.”

“Why am I here?” He asked angrily. “What have you done to me?”

“I saved your sore ass against my better judgment and the nation’s will, but T’Challa is still the king and he wants you alive because of reasons.” The princess said it with distaste for his very existence. Not that he could blame her for the hard feelings. He would have killed her if given the chance, or maybe held her prisoner to smooth his path to the throne. Erik deserved to die and that girl was within her right to wish for his head on a spike.

“What does he want? Parade me across the city? Make a trophy of me?” Erik asked out of frustration. Death was surely a better option than to serve as his cousin’s propaganda.

He waited for a witty and sharp answer from the princess, but the words never came. He saw her crossing her arms in front of her chest and bow her head in reverence. Oh fuck! That was a conversation Erik would rather not have, but he was no king to deny T’Challa. If his cousin wanted to talk not even an army of Dora Milaje would stop him.

“Give us some privacy, will you sister?” T’Challa’s voice came out as soft and diplomatic as ever. It made him sound older than he truly was.

“Sure. Just don’t mess around with my lab. Bast knows I already have a lot to fix here.” She answered in a teasing way before smiling at her brother. T’Challa petted her shoulder and smiled back at her with affection.

The playfulness in their little interaction felt like an insult. T’Challa would always have the world, wouldn’t he? The crown, the love, the family...Everything that had been denied to Erik.

Princess Shuri left the lab as the king had required. For a moment there was heavy silence between the two cousins. T’Challa pushed some button to get the medical bed reclined so Erik could talk to him in a more civilized manner.

“It is good to see you fully recovered, N’Jadaka. My sister is truly bright when it comes to healing.” T’Challa tried to sound amiable and diplomatic, but none of that small talk would ever soften Erik. Death was still preferable.

“Not that she is pleased about healing me. You fucked it up big and no one will thank you for letting me live.” Erik replied sourly. “Why did you do it?”

T’Challa pulled himself a chair before giving a straight answer. The king had ran out of words apparently.

“I’m not my father and it’s about time for Wakanda to face what lies beyond it’s borders.” The King said. “To let you die would only reinforce a cycle of mistakes. I won’t have your blood in my hands.”

“Too bad. I wouldn’t mind having yours in mine.” A low and dark laugh came out of his throat. “So I am your prisoner now. What will be of me?”

“That is for you to decide.” T’Challa answered with the dignity of a statesman. “You’ll face trial by the Council or you can accept my royal pardon and help me to change this place.”

“I doubt you’ll ever change. Why would you anyway? It’s way too comfortable here.” He wished his voice wouldn’t sound as bitter as it was.

“Because it’s the right thing to do and you were the one to make me see it.” His cousins answered soberly. “I won’t be a colonizer. I’m not here to pay them in the same coin and I won’t be a threat to them. Wakanda will be a safe haven and a beacon of hope. We will offer a helping hand to anyone who seeks our help and share our knowledge with the world.”

“I can’t decide if you are a brave man or a stupid one.” That was his father’s great dream and what a beautiful thing it was, only never meant to be without violence in the composition. “They won’t listen and they will try to annihilate you as soon as they realize the threat.”

“That’s why I need your help.” T’Challa’s voice was soft and persuasive. “Wakanda doesn’t have a place for Erik Killmonger, but it will always have a place for my cousin N’Jadaka. I’m offering you a home, a family and a chance of making things better. Will you accept it?”

“What will be of those who fought for you against me? You are downright ignoring their efforts and loyalty and this will cost you much.” Erik insisted. “Even if the offer is tempting, I have no place here and no place there. I am a son of nowhere.”

“You are right, but I have an alternative in mind.” T’Challa sounded like someone very proud of his own cleverness. “I have been planning to built a cultural center in the United States. A place to display our culture and stimulate clever children to pursue a career in technology development. A diplomatic mission of sorts and your knowledge would certainly be beneficial.”

“You want me as your fucking diplomat?! You are crazy.”

“I’m not naming you our representative. You’ll help our representative and there will be a security team involved to keep both of you out of trouble.” There was a smug smile in T’Challa’s face and that sounded like a bad omen.

“May I know who is this person I’m supposed to help?” Erik rolled his eyes.

“My sister, Shuri.” He got to be kidding! The Princess?! He was honestly mad.

“I can think about a dozen reasons why this is a bullshit plan. You are crazy! She is a kid! She has never been out of your borders! She knows nothing of life outside these walls! Besides...Have you considered how valuable that brain of hers is in the hands of the enemy?!”

“My sister is capable of upholding public duties. She has been trained from birth to be a public persona and honestly she isn’t inclined to teenage rebellion like most people her age. Shuri likes her tools, lab and designers more than she cares about fighting my authority, so I’m not worried. As I said I’ll have a security team to ensure neither of you will be threatened.”

“Oh I doubt auntie Queen will support your plan. You do realize that you are putting the little princess under the monster’s care, don’t you?” Erik let all the sarcasm to come out of his mouth like venom. It didn’t seem to amuse T’Challa, who kept looking at him with his calm and superior gaze.

“I’m giving you a chance, N’Jadaka. I’m willing to put the past behind us and accepting you in this family with open arms. I wish you to have your name back, your inheritance, your history as a prince of Wakanda. You can be one of us and prove to that kid from Oakland that this fairy tale is true. I trust you to take good care of Shuri, but one mistake and you’ll have the death you wish, only more painful.”

Did Erik like the sound of that plan? No, but he wasn’t willing to die either. That felt like a second chance to fulfill his destiny. A damn good chance to make himself great again under T’Challa’s nose and his cousin was even giving him the keys of the realm.

The princess was both T’Challa’s favorite and the brain behind all the wakandan technology. A kid from royal blood and the most vital human resource behind Wakanda’s defense. T’Challa was truly mad, but he wouldn’t be able to accuse Erik of not giving him a fair warning.

“Fine. I agree with your terms. Just make sure that kid won’t chat my brains off.” Erik answered in a tired tone, making T’Challa smirk.

That was how he became a royal babysitter for all intends and purposes. In more official therms, he had been honored with the position of Guardian to the Jewel of Wakanda and neither of the parts involved were exactly happy about it.

 

 


	2. Taking the boys back home

She would never understand her brother’s head in the matter, but Shuri lacked the royal authority to deny T’Challa in that. If the King wanted her to serve as his emissary and that traitor to be her escort, there was nothing to do about it.

Erik Killmonger remained quiet as he sat in a corner reading a book. The glasses falling over the bridge of his nose as he skipped to the next page, making him look way less frightening than he had been a couple of weeks before. There was a disdain in every world he said, but when she had questioned him why he had accepted, his answer was less than satisfying.

“Your brother and I reached an agreement. I keep you out of trouble and he listens to what I have to say from time to time.” That was a lie and Shuri knew it.

Sargent Barnes was more trustworthy than Erik. Any Dora would be a better choice than Killmonger and they had two of them serving as Shuri’s personal security team. For that treacherous man half a victory was not worthy of his time and that was the reason why she would never trust him.

Shuri suspected he was plotting something and nothing T’Challa did in an effort to make emends would ever dismiss Erik from his goal. He was just taking his time. Looking for anything he could use in his favor. Just a snake in the grass waiting for the perfect moment to attack.

“Nobody ever told you it’s disrespectful to stare at others, Princess?” Erik asked in a clear tone of provocation without looking at her directly.

Shuri moved her face away to look through the window as they approached the West Coast of the United States. Sargent Barnes smiled at her awkwardly as if he was trying to show some sympathy.

“Never mind him. It’s perfectly fine to be uncomfortable with the current arrangement.” Barnes said patiently.

“I should have let him die. Bast knows he deserved it.” Shuri answered as a matter of fact.

“I can hear you, Princess!” Erik shouted from the other side of the ship just to provoke her once more.

“You see?! He is insufferable!” Shuri said it as she rolled her eyes. “I have yet to thank you once more for coming with us. We could have stopped at New York if you wanted to.”

“Nah...I’m not ready yet. Besides I want to help. Wakanda is really something and I want to see all the great things you’ll do with this pretty brain of yours, Princess.”

“I’m pretty sure Agent Ross will have someone picking you up at some point. Meanwhile, thank you for your help.” Shuri bowed her head lightly. She like Bucky Barnes and his old fashioned talk and his politeness. Although he was an American - and a white one for that matter - he seemed to be far from all the terrible things she learned about colonizers. Maybe it was all the brainwash thing or simply the fact that no matter what Bucky Barnes would never become what he once was. The fact was that the Sargent had to craft a new purpose and a new identity for himself and Wakanda had somehow helped him to start the process.

“Don’t let his pretty eyes fool you, Princess. He is a blood thirst monster as much as I am.” Erik closed his book and looked at them with a mocking and cruel grin in his face. “All soldiers are. Besides...He is a colonizer.”

“As far as I could understand your speech, so were you. Stop picking at me and Sargent Barnes before I decided to act in behalf of my country and throw you out of this ship!” Shuri snapped back immediately.

“Oooo...The kitten has sharp claws after all. You are your father’s daughter aren’t you? You would kill someone from your own blood without even thinking.” His grin got wider and Shuri could have a glimpse of his golden tooth. Erik looked as dangerous as ever, only dressed as a civilian for a change. “That’s something we have in common.”

“You threatens the princess once more and I’ll have your head sent back to Wakanda, Killmonger.” Ayo, the chief of Shuri’s security team finally spoke and Erik knew better than to cross Okoye’s second in command. “Princess, we are about to land. The house has been prepared.”

“Thanks, Ayo.” Shuri answered her with usual politeness. “I can only hope my room will be as far as possible from his.” She pointed at Erik who simply grinned at her with mockery.

“You lack the curves I appreciate, Princess. Besides...Your personal guards are sure to guard your door, but I can leave my door open just in case you want some company.” That surely made her cheeks burn with embarrassment while Sargent Barnes and Ayo tried to pretend to be too busy to listen to the pointless argument.

Agent provocateur seemed to be Erik’s favorite game and Shuri had been allowing him to play with her words as he pleased. No more! She was the Princess of Wakanda and her brother’s sole heir. Killmonger would have to learn a thing or two about rank and respect.

The ship landed in an empty parking lot where a car had been waiting to take them to the house. For all intends and purposes the place had the status on an embassy, along with the cultural center T’Challa had built upon the dust of N’Jobu’s old home.

Killmonger seemed to be only partially aware of their mission in the United States. Shuri had a special task to perform. Classified and ultimate priority! Help Tony Stark to built an integrated security system in cooperation with Wakanda.

The Avenger Initiative had suffered a hard blow after the Sokovia Treaty fiasco and UN’s attack. Mr. Stark seemed worried about a potential attack and a major one at that. The Iron Man was known as a genius, but even him could do with some help, especially one that knew how to work vibranium. Honestly...Americans got a sample of the precious metal and the best they could do was a shield! They really needed all the help they could get.

Before she could meet with Tony Stark, Shuri needed some rest and refreshment. Erik and Bucky wouldn’t get their eyes out of the windows of the car. Barnes seemed curious about the West Coast scenario, while Erik was simply contemplating the city he once called home.

There was something bittersweet to the way he stared at the horizon. Shuri couldn’t tell if he was happy to be there or cursing T’Challa for making him go back. Oakland had become some sort of family curse and it was up to the new generation to break it.

The house T’Challa had picked was far from the center and rested at the top of cliff. It had a formidable view from the city and granted them all the privacy their business required. Five bedrooms, huge kitchen and all sort of facilities a royal party could ask for. Not that Shuri were particularly picky about those things. As long as she had a lab to work at she was fine and that was Tony Stark’s department.

“Not bad!” Erik said as he got out of the car. “I was kind off expecting a bigger castle, but I guess this nice cottage should do.”

“Presumptuous shit.” She cursed under her breath as she rolled her eyes at him. Erik surely heard it but said nothing. Instead his lips curved in a smirk. That man was having great fun at her expenses. No more!

 

Xxxx

 

Damned be T’Challa and his plan. As if going back to the US wasn’t bad enough already, it had to be Oakland!

He could get the meaning behind that choice and Erik even had to admit that it had been kind of touching to see his cousin so invested in making amends. It made things no less painful though.

The house that would serve as their home for a while was a nice one. The kind of place he would only see in TV shows. He used to dream about becoming an NBA player and buying one of those for himself and his mother. He had been an ambitious child after all. Basketball star, astronaut, king...In the end he never succeeded in any of those.

Wakanda indeed had the most breathtaking sunset he had ever seen, but to see the sun setting in Oakland’s horizon had a strong appeal to him. He was a son of nowhere, but at least that damn city had been the scenery to his happiest memories. If he closed his eyes Erik could still hear his Baba’s voice telling him all about Wakanda’s wonders. It had all been a fairy tale back them and now...It was just ghosts and ashes.

His father was dead and Erik had failed in his first attempt of seizing the throne. Getting back to his hometown had a bitter taste of failure and regret, but no one else had to know about that. He would rather let his anger out through sarcasm directed to Princess Shuri.

The girl never failed to amuse him with her reactions. Princess Shuri was a pretty kitten playing with all the shinny things made of vibranium. There was a naivety to her youthful energy and all the introspection and self-absorption of a young genius. What that girl knew about the world and all its cruelty? Nothing. Both T’Chaka and T’Challa had made a point of keeping her sheltered from everything outside of Wakanda’s borders.

Maybe that was exactly why Princess Shuri seemed so curious about his presence in the party. Even if she feared him for everything Erik had done to her family and country, her eyes would follow him around as if he was an exotic beast to be studied. Her wide eyes tempted Erik to answer her curiosity with a growl, just to remind her that he was the Jaguar and she was only a soft kitten.

The room he had been given had all the comfort he might desire. A room fit for a prince and oddly impersonal.

Erik looked at his reflex in the bathroom mirror. In many ways he was still the same man moved by rage and violence, but there was also something else in his eyes. He was tired.

Tired of being a shadow in the system. Tired of feeling angry all the time and living a life without roots or purpose. Most of all he was tired of the persona he had created to survive in America. Erik Killmonger Stevens had been a useful tool so far, but he would never be respected by anyone while he accepted everything attached to that name.

Erik would always be hated and seen as a foreigner pretender to the throne. Not a true born wakandan and definitely not trustworthy. If he wanted to be accepted Erik would have to die for N’Jadaka to be born.

It would have to start with a change of looks and approach.

Erik picked the pad he had been given back in Wakanda. Those gadgets were pretty handy when it came to internet connection and research. He selected the footage of T’Challa’s speech at UN and at that point he knew every one of his cousin’s words by heart.

There was a sobriety to T’Challa’s voice. He sounded cool and diplomatic even when provoked. His movements were meticulous and modest in many ways although he could never pass by unnoticed. Regal, controlled, charismatic and eloquent...Damned be T’Challa for having everything. If Erik were to be honest, he would have to admit that if his cousin had run an election Erik would have voted for him.

There was also a thing about T’Challa’s style on clothes that seemed to reflect the general wakandan taste on fashion. There was a cosmopolitan touch to it when the king was attending to formal events outside his kingdom, but it still had elements of Africa in it. Back in the palace T’Challa favored his tunics and sandals, embracing all the traditions of his people. A man from the world who knew his roots. That was the face of a leader, not the one of a subversive rebel.

If Erik Killmonger should die, then it was paramount for N’Jadaka to have his own identity, starting with a change in his looks. So long to all the basketball sneakers, sweatpants and hoodies. Goodbye to all those baggy jeans, cargo pants and jackets. He needed something more refined, yet urban and ethnic. Wakanda with a drop of NYC, wrapped up with Italian shoes. If he wanted to be royalty, he would have to look like royalty.

His king cousin at least had given him some help with that. Among his few personal belonging, Erik had found some fancy clothes meant for official events. T’Challa had kept it safe, making most of those pieces tailored in fine fabrics and most of them black with a bit of a texture to them. It was good enough, but he wanted something more. Something to make it plain that he was a wakandan representative and a member of the royal family.

Erik looked at his father’s ring hanging on a chain around his neck. He took the ring and finally returned it to his finger. It was about time for him to make his new identity from scratch.

He took a long bath and shaved, keeping the mustache and his usually well-cut beard. He pulled his braids back, instead of letting them fall over his eyes. That made him look more like a diplomatic officer than a random guy coming back from a basketball match with neighborhood friends.

He picked dark gray jeans in a more traditional cut and a beige wool sweater, along with some sort of sleepers that seemed to be a thing among wakandan men. In the end he looked...Like a fucking nerd with a shit load of money to spend. It was classy, a bit traditional, but with personality. Vintage? Was that it? Or maybe he simply looked like...Someone he never thought he could be.

The trench coat was a bit lighter than his pants, with a small geometric pattern to it’s fabric that gave it some extra texture, without making it too extravagant. Not bad...He might even get lucky in a near bar with some clever college girl with a thing for bookish guys.

Erik left the room once he was ready. He was eager to get out of that house and walk around to get some air or a beer, whatever came first.

Obviously he had been under the impression that he could come and go as he wished, but Ayo didn’t seem to agree with his plans. The Dora Milaje stopped him half way to the entrance, using her spear to block his way.

“I don’t recall giving you permission to leave the house.” The security chief said sharply.

“I don’t recall requiring for permission and why should I? I don’t answer to you, Miss.” Erik answered with disdain. “I am your king’s emissary, have you forgotten it? A royal family member even if you don’t like it. You are not my superior, so get out of my way.”

“Let him go, Ayo.” A third voice was heard in the entrance hall. The princess came out of her room wearing something that looked like the wakandan version of sweatpants. She didn’t look so regal for a change. In fact she looked like someone who was eager to throw herself at the couch and binge watch some teenage show. “If he doesn’t want to stay with us, all the better.”

“Don’t worry, Princess.” He grinned at her in provocation. “I’ll be back so you won’t miss me.”

“Oh...I’ll be desolated by your absence.” She made a dramatic gesture to perform her own version of a maiden in distress. That is...Before she could show him her middle finger in a very unladylike gesture. “Now, fuck off.”

He laughed openly. What a brat she was, but at least Erik couldn’t say that being around her was something boring. Shuri had a sense of humor. One that was juvenile and clearly her best attempt of teenage rebellion, but at least she wasn’t as stiff and controlled as her brother.

“See ya, kitty.” He said before getting out of the house.

“Wait!” Shuri shouted and he turned around to face her again.

He had to thank his training for the good reflexes. The girl threw something at him and if it wasn’t for his feline agility, Shuri would have hit him in his face.

“These are for you.” She said as a matter of fact. Erik looked closely at the bracelet she had thrown at him. Kimoyo beads. “I’ll know if you try to break it or if you decide to walk around places you are not supposed to be. If you try to escape, or if you try to plot something against us, you will have either a Dora or a War Dog at your throat soon enough and your privileges will be over. My brother gave you this chance, but I would love to have an excuse to send you back to Wakanda to face trial.”

“You don’t need to put a tracker on me, kitty. The last thing I want is to get more ties with this place.” Erik answered sharply. “I’m not overly fond of being pinned down to the floor by a Dora’s spear, so...Keep your gadgets.”

“This is not a tracker.” She said in a rather cocky way. “It can be used in a medical emergence or for communication purposes. Do you really think I would give you a tracker you could dispose of when subcutaneous implants are available?”

“Say what?!” Ok...He never though she would do something like that. It never crossed his mind that Shuri would consider using such methods, plus she never touched him.

“Do you really thought I would let you get out of my lab without having means to track you down in case you had some pretty bad ideas?” She grinned at him. All too satisfied with that pretty brain of hers and his obvious incredulity. “The beads are our version of a cellphone combined with 3D Facetime, among other things.”

“Where is the implant?” He asked angrily.

“You will never know, kitty.” At that Ayo snorted and Erik could feel his blood boiling. “Now off you go. I want to watch a movie of two before I have to see your face again.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has been neglected for almost a year now. I started to write it shortly after Black Panther was released, so it won't contemplate events from the last Avengers' movie.  
> I hope you like this chapter and reviews are highly appreciated.


	3. What is home?

Shuri observed as he walk out the door, so angry that she could almost see the steam coming out of his ears. Erik Killmonger was way too used to do whatever he pleased, but she was the one responsible to keep him in check during their said diplomatic mission. Eventually they would have to visit Washington DC for actual diplomatic duties, but for the moment she had to supervise her brother’s cultural center and meat with Tony Stark in a more discreet spot. New York would call too much attention and he didn’t want to concentrate their integrated intel system at the Avenger’s Headquarter.

Oakland was the kind of place nobody would ever consider for such purpose, plus the clever idea of keeping it disguised and well hidden under the cultural center sounded good enough. There would be kids all around and community services offered, including classes and workshops. For all intends and purposes it would be a school of sorts, with a complete intelligence facility under it.

T’Challa had send the engineers ahead, along with a team of builders to get the place ready for her to move her equipment in. Tony Stark would meat her there once everything was ready so they could make the first tests.

Keeping Erik distracted with something else was vital. Give him something to do with that brain of his. He had an MIT degree after all. Judging only by his academic curriculum, he was the sort of success history that could be used to motivate young kids to aim higher. He might even like that kind of job. Rescuing kids that - like he once had been - were easy targets to either the police’s violence or the criminality.

Shuri didn’t actually believe that a man such as Killmonger would ever be fully recovered. He had too much anger and too much hate within him and a grudge against the kids of T’Chaka that wouldn’t be easily overcome. T’Challa had a different opinion on the matter. In fact he had seen reason in Erik’s misguided notion of wakandan colonialism. It wasn’t a matter of giving black people the means to start a war of their own, but actually listening to their urges and help those in need of help instead of keeping all the tech and resources within Wakanda’s borders. Humanitarian aid was a nice description of it.

T’Challa picked Oakland for symbolic and sentimental reasons, she knew. There was this tinny part of her that kept wondering if that had been a good idea. Shuri feared that the proximity with N’Jobu’s death place might bring back all the bitterness and the rage in his only child. That was still to be seen.

As for herself, Oakland was the place in which her Baba – her first and greatest hero – proved to be nothing but a man; one that was capable of killing his own brother. She had been so sure about her capacity of exposing Erik when he arrived in Wakanda demanding the Throne, that it never crossed her mind that Killmonger had not only the royal blood, but also all the reasons to hate her family.

She didn’t like the man a single bit for all he did to T’Challa and Wakanda, but also for him being a cruel remind that she had been sheltered from the ugly things from the world and her own family wasn’t an exception to all this ugliness. Perhaps Erik Killmonger was the gods’ way of forcing the royal family to face their own demons.

In a way Shuri thought herself to be much like her ancestors. She disliked the idea of living Wakanda and now she was starting to dislike the idea of outsiders, especially those that decided to enter her family uninvited. She was not a heartless person though. Killmonger was worthy of pity and it had been Wakanda the one to turn its back at a hopeless child. As T’Challa said, Erik Killmonger was a monster of their own making.

Maybe the point of that journey was precisely to give that man a chance of choosing who he wanted to be. Would he chose Erik Stevens, the troublesome boy from Oakland; or N’Jadaka, the prince who finally found his way home?

To answer that question, the man would have to first figure out something else. What was home for a man that belonged to nowhere?

 

Xxxxxxx

 

It was like looking through a mirror and facing his own reflex. Bucky couldn’t help thinking so whenever he watched that man walking around and making a real effort to get everyone around him uncomfortable.

Erik was right; they were both monsters with a blood thirst and not to be trusted. Bucky doubted that the princess trusted him, but she trusted her own brain and creations. She had fixed him, or whatever there was to be fixed, but a part of him would never be fully healed. He got back to his real identity, but all the things the Winter Soldier had done would haunt Bucky for the rest of his life, being it a long or a short one.

At least in his case, evil hadn’t been a choice. Some would argue that a soldier didn’t have the right to judge himself as a good man no matter the side, but he had always tried to do what was right for others, for himself and for his country. The Winter Soldier was a creation of someone else. A mask that had been imposed to him. For Erik Killmonger things were a bit more complicated than that.

War had been a tool for him to get to King T’Challa. A lifetime devoted to pursue his revenge against the man that had killed his father. Barnes wondered if Erik would ever know peace, even if he had succeeded in his ambitions. A throne sounded like an empty reward or compensation for all the years spent alone.

Rage was Killmonger’s source of energy and his greatest motivation. It turned him into a perfect soldier and also a great risk to everyone and anyone around him. Mad dogs often bit off the hand of their owners and that man was precisely that...A mad dog whose leach was starting to lose.

King T’Challa had asked him to help with Shuri’s security and Bucky felt honor bound to do it. He had killed T’Chaka and still the new king and the princess had found it in their hearts to forgive him. Protecting the princess was the least he could do.

It just didn’t make sense for T’Challa to have Erik coming with them to America. The man should remain in Wakanda and answer for his crimes. Even if T’Challa had a forgiving nature, to force Erik to go back to America was a bad idea. The death of N’Jobu created a monster, but America had feed that beast well with cruelty and injustices. Wakanda could have been for Killmonger a fresh start. A place he could actually come to love and respect. A place that could love him back.

As for Bucky, he had no one left. No place to call home and no one that could actually understand him except for Rogers. Steve, always so noble and selfless, would deny forever all of Bucky’s crimes even when Bucky couldn’t forgive himself.

The truth was that the world didn’t have use for a man like him. A man out of his time and broke beyond emend. Death would have been a bliss but maybe the universe would give him one last chance to see Steve and say goodbye. Maybe he still had a final mission to fulfill.

He couldn’t help a sad smile as he observed the little interaction between Erik and the princess before Killmonger left the house in an act of rebellion. Erik was at a cross road. Would he hold to the past and his childhood home or would he embrace his true name and heritage in order to build himself a new home? That was yet to be seen.

As for Bucky, since he recovered his memory and identity he accepted that sometimes home wasn’t four walls and a roof above one’s head. Sometimes home was a person, a feeling, a bond...Maybe the universe had given him another chance for him to find his home. Maybe it was time for him to give Steve a call.

 

Xxxxxxxxx

 

In the end Erik found himself standing in the same parking lot he used to play basketball with other boys from the neighborhood. He looked at the building and all the improvements that have been made by T’Challa.

A part of him was thankful for all those changes. They gave the neighborhood a new sort of energy and kids seem to go there every day just to see it and wonder about the cultural center. There was also a part of him that wanted to scream at T’Challa and Shuri for violating the place regardless to Erik’s personal feelings about it. That was his home or at least the closest thing he ever had. That was the place he used to sleep after hearing a story about Wakanda from his Baba. The place he used to find his mother after school.

It was all gone. His father, his mother and even the building he used to call home. Erik knew that coming back to Oakland would be difficult, but he never thought it would be so hard on him.

A ball ran to his feet, making Erik look down and then pick it from the floor. He looked around just to find a boy – no older than twelve – running to him.

“Sorry about that.” The boy said out of embarrassment.

“You better work on this move. You could have hit someone.” Erik warned before handling the ball back to the boy.

“Do you have ship too?” The boy asked curiously.

“What?” That didn’t make any sense to him.

“The last guy I saw around this building had a bracelet like yours and he had a ship that could become invisible. He was with some bald women with spears. That was dope.”

“Nah!...You saw my cousin.” Erik answered as a matter of fact. “He is a bit of a show off.”

“Still dope, but you look cool too. Like the coat and the locks.” The boy said.

“What’s your name?” Erik asked him in a half amused and half annoyed tone.

“Jackson, but everyone calls me Jax.” The boy said.

“You might see some weird shit around here in the next few months, Jax. Invisible ships will be nothing in comparison.” Erik said. “You might like the kind of things we will do here.”

“Cool!” The little guy answered while trying to sound chill. “You don’t talk like him, you know.”

“Like who?” Erik questioned absently.

“Your cousin. He had a funny accent.” Jax shrank his shoulders a bit.

“He is from Africa, but I grew up in the neighborhood. We don’t really get along.” Erik explained in an economic way.

“What ya name?” Jax asked and for a while Erik didn’t know what to answer. What was his name indeed? Who was he?

“N’Jadaka.” He decided.

“Ninja...What?! You kidding, right?” Jax asked in a way Erik would have done when he was a child.

“N’Jadaka, but you can call me Erik if you can’t pronounce my name right.” Erik turn his back at the building and walked away as Jax kept following him.

“You know Erik doesn’t sound like Ninjawhatever, don’t you?” The little guy teased.

“Yeah...Figured that long ago.” Erik answered as a matter of fact while he kept walking away.

“Does it have a meaning?” Jax insisted in questioning. That made him stop. Yes...His name had a meaning and at times he struggled with it.

“It means “mind of a great leader” and before you ask it’s from Wakanda.” Erik explain. “Go back to your game. I gotta go.”

“See ya, Ninja guy.” Jax shouted from a distance and Erik couldn’t help rolling his eyes at it.

He had zero patience for kids and their chatting. He could barely stand staying around the princess and she was nineteen. At times he struggle to not think that what T’Challa really wanted was to make a babysitter out of his troublesome cousin. Yet another way to humble him down.

The taste in his mouth was a bitter one as he walked around the neighborhood. Those buildings, houses and streets were nothing but a bunch of sad memories. Erik had left that place and no one ever missed him. He was back to the city he grew up at and still it didn’t feel like home. No place would ever feel like home.

Erik finally found a bar to have a bite and something to drink. He sat on the balcony to savor his bear, hopping to watch to a random game on TV.

The food and the bear felt tasteless and he felt a bit alienated inside that place. Maybe he should go back to the house and try to make himself comfortable enough to sleep. At least the Dora Milaje and the Princess were familiar to him. After months spent in Wakanda he almost felt like he had finally found his rightful place.

The football match was suddenly interrupted by the news. Erik didn’t bother to listen to them for most of the time, until T’Challa’s name was mentioned.

“ _After his powerful speech at the UN’s Assembly, King T’Challa of Wakanda gave the first step into opening his country to the world. A Wakandan Embassy is to be inaugurated at Washington DC later this month, along with a brand new cultural center in Oakland,_ _California_ _._

_The cultural center will attend the local community_ _and present the Wakandan culture to the city. The initiative also intends to select the most promising students for a scholarship project in science_ _and technology_ _. King T’Challa sent his sister and heiress apparent to the throne, Princess Shuri, to supervise the inauguration of both the Embassy and the cultural center._

_Princess Shuri is known among her people as a bright young lady, with an interest in technology and sciences. While in the country, the Princess will meet with several important individuals, like Tony Stark, to expand the technological development of the African country._

_The Wakandan party has yet another member of the royal family. Prince N’Jadaka, cousin to King T’Challa, is credited as the diplomatic bridge between Wakanda and America. The Prince lived most of his life in the United States_ _and concluded his studies at the MIT before going back to the country to pay his respects to the new King. Ever discreet, Prince N’Jadaka is the only member of the royal family of Wakanda to ever live abroad. His identity had been kept secret during the time for security purposes, according to the Wakandan Security Department.”_

Erik looked at the TV in utter shock for a while. _What the actual fuck is this?_ Really! Why hadn’t anyone bothered to tell him that he had a brand new background story? Diplomatic bridge?! He would sooner set both countries on fire before helping them to reach any sort of agreement!

He paid for his drink and meal and left the place in a state of blinding anger. T’Challa might be king, but he wasn’t a god or Erik’s owner to give him a brand new identity without consulting him. Yes, N’Jadaka was his name. He was born in the US, graduated at the MIT, but never once he had been acknowledged as a royal family member. Wakanda never wanted him and to make it sound like they had been best buddies since ever was the most outrageous thing Erik had ever heard.

Just because T’Challa wanted to play the nice guy and make amends, it didn’t mean that Erik was willing to forgive and forget all the bad blood between them so easily. No...It was his life! The only thing he had left to hold to. T’Challa didn’t know shit about him until months ago. King or not, he didn’t have the right to decide who Erik was or would be.

Erik didn’t know how he managed to get back to the house, nor how he managed to pass by Ayo without getting any questions. He wanted to scream at someone or simply set some shit on fire just to make it plain that he wasn’t some sort of pet for them.

Barnes was nowhere to be seen and except for the Doras the place was in a state of slumber. Where was the princess? That annoying brat owned him some explanations. She wasn’t in her room, otherwise the security team would be concentrated at her door. Erik went to the TV room hopping to find her there.

Shuri was holding a bowl full of popcorn while her eyes remained glued at the TV. He had no idea of what she was watch, but she was so concentrated that she didn’t even notice him approaching. Erik got between her and the TV, blocking the view and making her looking up at him with an annoyed expression in her face.

“Excuse me. Can you please move your ass so I can finish my movie?” She questioned in an outraged tone. Erik tried to decide if he should snap her neck there and then or come up with a more painful way to make her pay for that bullshit.

“I ain’t going anywhere until you explain why my face was on TV today and why suddenly I gained a background story that make me sound as if were you big bro’s bff all of a sudden.” He nearly roared at her. “Why no one bothered to tell me this shit before? Why you even thought you could simply erase my entire story?!”

“What exactly you wanted us to say once we landed? That you were a former US Marine; one that is heavily implicated in dubious missions and operations at that? A bloody killer at the service of the United States that suddenly found his way into the Wakandan Royal Family? I spent a good deal of time erasing your records in the US and crafting you a new back story. Making Erik Stevens, alias Killmonger, vanish from the system wasn’t exactly a piece of cake. You should actually thank me for doing so.”

“Why would I do such a thing?! You entitled bitch! Who you thing you are to decide who I am?!” His hands were itch to strangle Shuri’s neck at that point.

“Who is Erik Stevens?” She replied as she rose from the couch to stand in front of him without fear or any sort of intimidation. “A shadow, a ghost, a name you picked to cover your bloody track. You’ll have to decide at some point who you want to be. You can’t be both. You can’t be Killmonger and N’Jadaka. Think of this as a second chance; a fresh start. If you decide that you don’t want what we offer you, than you’ll at least have a clean name here so you can do whatever the fuck you want instead of being a mad dog. If you fuck up your life a second time, than keep in mind that it will be your choice and your doing. Don’t blame it on us as you always did. T’Challa and I didn’t kill your Baba. We have no blame in what happened to you and yet, even when you tried to kill us, we still offer you an honorable name and a different and better kind of life.”

“It was not your choice to make!” Once more he roared and at that point Ayo and her girls were already moving toward him with their spears in hand. “I am not your dirt to be hidden under the carpet!”

“Except that you are! How could we have you here, working with us, without the American Government sniffing around? This would raise many questions and create a bit of a diplomatic indisposition.” Shuri rose her voice for the first time and for a second Erik could see it. The Panther hidden behind the kitten’s playful face. She was her father’s daughter after all. “I can understand why you did what you did. I can even have some sympathy for you, but when you decide to enter my home, threaten me and my family and hold the whole world accountable for everything you went through to justify your war, you don’t get to chose how I’ll fix the shit you’ve done. My father failed you. I get it and we are trying to fix his mistakes, but you have a choice to make. Who you want to be?”

For a moment the words vanished from his mind. He tried to find something clever, acid and cruel to say to her, but nothing came. Erik remained there, looking at that girl’s face and feeling his cheeks burn as if Shuri had slapped him countless times. He was angry and he was also embarrassed. The worst part was that he was suddenly feeling vulnerable, like that boy who found his Baba lying in a puddle of blood years ago.

“You could have at least told me about your plan.” His voice came out broken and Erik felt the tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

“I didn’t think you would mind to follow the story.” Shuri answered and there was an odd coldness to her words. She didn’t think he would mind or she didn’t care? T’Challa had a good heart after all. It was that girl the one with a cold mind and a heart almost as hard as Erik’s.

“I’m not ashamed of who I am or what I did.” He lowered his head a bit. “My past is all I have left and you didn’t think I would mind if you threw it away.”

Damn be T’Chall, the Princess and Oakland. Damn be the moment he agreed to accept that mission so he could get a second chance to get the throne.

Erik went back to his bedroom feeling utter alone and lost as if he was ten years-old again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is a thing to chose a new path and being forced to take up a role you never wanted in the first place. Erik is finally confronting (or being confronted by) his old traumas.  
> I hope you like it and reviews are appreciated.


	4. The child within

After a couple of days without seeing Erik around the house, Shuri started to realized that maybe he had been entitled to know what she had in mind to justify his presence in America again. It hadn’t crossed her mind that he would feel so disrespected or hurt by that ridiculous story.

Perhaps the journey back to his birthplace had been too much for him to deal with, but what did she know about that man?

Shuri grew up in a distant country, sheltered from all the hardships of life. She had a family and a good one at that. She had been loved and cared for. She had been allowed to explore her full potential and strengths, but what of that man she only knew as the devious Jaguar that tried to destroy everything she held dear?

Before that episode during their first night at the house in Oakland, Shuri never thought it to be possible for a man like him to break over something that sounded so...Unimportant. Of course it had been her callous and often cold reason speaking. For her the name Erik Stevens and that man’s past meant little to nothing, but they were everything he had left.

Eventually she would have to ask for his forgiveness and maybe make an effort to understand things from his point of view. In the end T’Challa was the one with a forgiving heart, while her nature was pragmatic and rational. Sometimes feelings were difficult to understand and Erik’s were written in a language she didn’t know how to read.

Ayo looked at her through the car’s mirror just to make sure Shuri was fine. She couldn’t blame the Dora Milaje for being so overzealous. Shuri hadn’t been feeling like herself those days. For someone as fond of innovation as she was, being far from home and from her family was proving to be a hard task.

“Was I too harsh?” She asked mindlessly. It was more like a rhetoric question, but Ayo felt compelled to answer.

“No one could blame you for being so.” Ayo answered in a soothing voice that didn’t fit the image of a great warrior. “He tried to kill your brother and, even if for a short period, he took away everything you held dear. Maybe this was your way of hurting him in the same way.”

“Except that I didn’t mean to do so.” Shuri answered before giving her cut of coffee a sip. “T’Challa gave me a mission and, for good or for worst, making that man feel like part of the family is included in it. I’m failing. That’s not something I’m used to.”

“That man is a difficult person. Dealing with people, especially from another country and culture, isn’t something you often do inside your lab.” Ayo tried to make her mistakes sound like a minor thing, but Shuri knew her to be wrong.

“Should I have expected that sort of reaction? Did I miss something?” She questioned soberly.

“Maybe. I bet this place hit some nerve in him. Only a month ago he was locked inside your lab and before that he was trying to burn the world down to avenge his father’s death. It’s not as if Killmonger was in his sound mind then and he certainly isn’t now. I can only imagine all the things he did and saw while we lived safely out of foreign conflicts. It isn’t easy for a soldier to keep sanity at times. It is certainly difficult for a soldier to even accept his own weaknesses and...As it seems he wasn’t ready to come back and find closure.”

Shuri threw her head back as she looked at Oakland’s streets. It was a beautiful city, or at least some parts of it were beautiful. The place T’Challa picked to serve as the cultural center was located in a poor neighborhood that felt like a place neglected by the government.

A noisy group of kids coming back from school passed by the car and looked at it as if it was the coolest thing they have ever seen. Black boys, most of them. Wide eyes and large smiles, carrying their backpacks and heading to the parking lot to play some basketball or any other game.

The idea that one day Erik had been just like one of those boys sounded impossible. There was nothing remotely kind or naive within him. It felt like he had been born damaged in his core and yet...Maybe a part of her had been born damaged too.

Since birth her life had been empty of those idle and innocent diversions. Although her family liked to think of her as a child - and that would hardly chance - Shuri never really felt like one. She couldn’t really remember how it was to go to school or talk to people about her age. Most of her social interactions were limited either by her social rank or because most people didn’t understand a word she said.

T’Challa was her closest friend and that was something sad to realize. There was an important age gap between then and most of the time he had to make a real effort to make her feel...Normal. T’Challa was her big brother and even with him Shuri had problems to understand how she should respond to his moments of doubt, anger, sadness or even something silly like his lasting love for Nakia – who had turned him down time and time again.

Looking at those children, Shuri realized that although she had an undisputed intellect, emotions often felt like a foreign language she couldn’t speak or understand. Yet T’Challa trusted her enough to figure whatever was going on Killmonger’s head and work with it in order to make him feel compelled to work for Wakanda.

It felt like a bit of a problem she would have to figure out how to solve. The only language Killmonger knew was violence. The only language she knew was blunt and cold science.

 

Xxxxxxxx

 

Running was proving to be a useful way to burn out his anger without killing someone in the process. Waking up before the sunrise, running aimlessly until his mind was empty for a bright and peaceful second and then coming back to the house to face the suspicious and displeased eyes whenever he passed by one of the Dora Milaje.

The Princess was rarely there to remind him of how his identity was a problem she had to solve or swap under the carpet. Shuri was constantly busy with whatever T’Challa wanted her to do in the US. It sounded like an awful amount of trouble for something as ordinary as a cultural center, especially for someone used to create vibranum wonders from scratch.

At times if felt like Shuri was trying to create something out of a more unstable material and turned him into her new project. Was it really necessary to drag him back to Oakland and make him face the emptiness of his life while T’Challa brought down all the physical evidences of Erik’s existence? Was it really necessary to destroy him in such a personal way, so this new persona – this new creature – could be born?

What made them any different from the Hydra and all the shit they made Barnes go through? They wanted Erik to forgive, but most of all they wanted him to forget who he was and how he became the said mad dog. He just never thought it would hurt so much.

Erik hadn’t anticipated that a girl as young, naive and careless like Shuri would ever bring him to tears. Maybe it was some sort of side effect of the heart-shape herb and the hallucinations it could cause. To hear everything she said and all those excuses to erase his identity felt like his father was being taken away from him a second time.

His father’s presence, his voice, all the times he had put Erik to bed and all the wonderful stories about Wakanda...All the small parts of a child and yet everything that still made Erik human in his core. That he refused to let go.

After running he would often go back to the old building and observe how the place was changing along those days. That building was yet another symbol of how Wakanda was consuming him and his past. Chewing every fiber, every cell and replacing it by a cold and shinny piece of vibranium.

That day in particular the new furniture was arriving. Erik stood there, watching as a group of men walked around shouting orders and moving all sorts of furniture inside the building. For a second he wondered if his old apartment still looked the same, or if that too had been remolded to better suit T’Challa’s and Shuri’s taste.

“Hey, you!” A voice shouted from a distance. A childish voice. Erik turned his head to look at Jax, who was walking toward him with a ball under his arm. “You back!”

For a moment he considered turning around and leaving the place before the little guy could start the endless questions, but at that point Jax felt like the only living creature he didn’t hate.

“Hey, kid.” He answered without an ounce of enthusiasm. Jax grinned at him as if he had figured out Erik’s big secret.

“Saw you on TV the other day.” He said. His dark eyes were shinning with excitement as he spoke. “N’Ja-da-ka.” He expelled the name carefully as if he had been practicing the pronunciation. “Not the easiest name, but it’s cool. Better than Jackson for sure.”

“Where are your friends? Why aren’t you playing with them?” Erik tried to change the subject before the boy could make all the wrong questions at the wrong time.

“They are all busy with the school project.” Jax answered as a matter of fact.

“Not you though. Shouldn’t you be busy with it as well?” Erik insisted while hopping that would make the boy go away.

“Nah! I’m good. They need the extra points to save their asses, but I don’t.” He boasted a bit. “I got brains, you know? They ain’t that lucky.”

“Good for you.”

“So...You are a prince.” That was exactly the kind of conversation he was trying to avoid, but Jax was looking at him as if Erik was LeBron James himself with free first line tickets to offer.

“Yeah...Sure the TV made it sound cooler than it really is.” Erik shrank his shoulders.

“The other guy...Was he the king? You cousin, I mean.”

“Uhum. As I said, he is a show off. Not a big deal.” If only he could erase T’Challa and Wakanda from his life as easily as his cousin could erase Erik’s identity.

“Bet MIT was dope though.” Jax pointed with a gleam of enthusiasm behind his eyes.

“It was fine. Made me feel smart for a while.”

“Gotta be smart to get there. I would feel like...Don’t know. Like a super hero or something. Tony Stark doesn’t have powers, but he has a brain and money so...Bet you could be one if you put your heart to it.”

“Believe, kid. I tried, but it’s not that easy. I would rather play for the Lakers, if I could chose.” If that kid only knew the sort of things Erik had seen and how he could have done great things for that community and so many others.

“Wanna play?” Jax asked with caution and a bit of hope.

“Yeah...Why not?” It wouldn’t kill to allow himself a bit of fun. In fact, Erik was certain that he needed to clean his mind of all the dramas for a while.

There was something nostalgic to that moment. Erik let the smells, the textures and the memories of that old parking lot used as a basketball court to take over him completely. It almost felt like his father was standing there, looking at him with an indulgent smile.

N’Jobu liked to watch basketball games on TV, but never really learned how to play it. He would often tell Erik that there was nothing like that game in his country, but there was a lightness to the movements of the players that reminded him of a panther. That was the reason why he had always encouraged his son to play it and develop the agility, the strength and the instincts of a feline. N’Joby might never have craved for the throne, but he had wished for his son to embrace the legacy of the Black Panther that ran in the family’s blood.

Jax was a clever kid, but he wasn’t exactly the athlete kind. He was all about video games and general trivia, while basketball was something he was trying to learn so the other kids would let him be a part of the group. Well...That was something they had in common. Belonging and acceptance were things that both of them craved for.

As they played, the boy would tell him all about his classes and how he wanted to be a doctor to take good care of his mom. If given the chance, Jax would name all the bones he had memorized from an anatomy book he found at the local library.

“Is it possible to be a scientist and a prince in your country?” Jax questioned eventually as they trained free throws.

“As far as I know, one doesn’t necessarily excludes the other. Princess is a scientist and a freaking good one at that.” Erik answered before correcting Jax posture. Speaking of Shuri brought a bitter taste to his mouth, but she deserved the recognition. “I have other duties that are not related with tech, or at least not related to developing tech.”

“What kind of duties?” The boy insisted before throwing the ball. He missed the hoop again.

“Military. Now I’m in a diplomatic mission of sorts.” Erik answered as a matter of fact.

“By the way you say it, doesn’t sound much fun.” Jax looked at him curiously. “Isn’t it an important thing?”

“Nah...My cousin doesn’t really trusts me with the important shit.” Although T’Challa thought it was a good idea to put Shuri under Erik’s care. That was the most stupid thing one could do, especially now that Erik felt very much inclined to break the Princess’ neck.

“Why not?” Jax kept questioning.

“Because I might take the crown for myself. He isn’t willing to take risks, but he must keep me entertained with something.” Erik smirked bitterly. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. That’s how his mind seems to work.”

“Are you his enemy though? You don’t sound like Richard III to me.”

“Yeah. I’m better looking.” Erik mocked, although Jax questions were starting to make him feel uncomfortable. Jax rolled his eyes at the answer.

“Nah! Why would he let you come along with his sister if you were truly a threat?”

“Because he wants to make me go nuts and no one can do it like Shuri Udaku can.” Erik nearly growled.

“You got the hots for you cousin?!” Jax suddenly looked at him as if Erik had two heads. Maybe the last sentence came out a bit off.

“What?! No! What the fu...?!” He shook his head as if that could erase all the twisted images that crossed his mind in a millisecond. “She is annoying as fuck. A little pampered brat, with a genius-like brain and not an ounce of social skills. She is as cold and sharp as a razor.”

“Still...If he doesn’t trust you, why would he let you get so close to her? I know for a fact that sisters are weird and annoying, but they are family. Is he afraid of her too?” Jax would never let go of that subject apparently.

“He likes the brat. Both of them have a wicked pleasure in pissing me off. Maybe he is simply stupid enough to think that I wouldn’t dispose of her if needed.”

“Would you though? Doesn’t sound like a good deal.” Jax pointed as a matter of fact.

“And what do you know of good deals in monarchies, kid?” Erik laughed at that.

“Isn’t it better to be the king’s favorite? It’s easier to seize power if you are close to it, isn’t it?”

“What do they teach kids these days?” He tried to sound humorous, but the fact was that the kid knew a thing or two about those things.

“Shakespeare, but I like watching Game of Thrones too.”

“I’m pretty sure that show isn’t for your age, but thanks for your very qualified opinion on the matter.” Erik snorted in disdain, but he was suddenly distracted by something else.

The car stopped near the parking lot. Erik felt way too self-aware once the passenger opened the window and looked at him. Shuri wasn’t even trying to be subtle about her attempts of keeping him under control. In fact Erik doubted that she knew what to do at all.

They were dancing round each other, testing the ground and thinking about how to proceed next. They were enemies and yet oddly curious about each other. Some times Erik could almost see a bit of himself inside her. The lonely and awkward part; that part that never seemed to fit anywhere but between the pages of books and the one that tasted cruelty as if it were a rare delight.

If he was to be honest, Erik had to admit that he couldn’t hate her like he hated T’Challa most of the time. No...Shuri was annoying and ruthless whenever triggered by his endless challenges, but there was something in her that he respected. There was something in her that he envied.

Shuri had Wakanda in her hands and yet she didn’t care at all about the formal power. She played with her country’s fate and she laughed while doing so. If that didn’t make her some sort of deity, than Erik didn’t how to describe that girl.

They were both greedy children playing with dangerous toys. He wanted power and had the lack of scruples necessary to take it. She had the real power in hands and yet she didn’t care about a crown. Shuri already knew that she could raise an empire of her own and to contemplate such power in a young woman was somewhat tantalizing.

That was probably why she thought it to be reasonable to erase Erik’s past. Shuri was so used to deal in the cold language of science and so driven by her own power that Erik’s opinions and feelings simply didn’t matter. He was a nuisance; little more than an insect to be crushed.

Suddenly he understood what should have been obvious. Shuri had never really interacted with anyone that wasn’t a close family member for a prolonged period of time without it involving her creations somehow. He would be surprised if she had friends at all. Her world had been restricted to the lab and the palace, making it even more difficult for a prodigy child to interact and understand how humans actually functioned in an emotional level.

“I guess I gotta go, kid.” Erik said before giving the ball back to Jax. “Can’t let Princess waiting.”

“You should try to be nice to her.” Jax finally advised. “It’s better to have her on your side, I guess. At least making her neutral eventually.”

“Maybe I should start watching that show too. Take care, kid.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like it. Reviews are very appreciated.


	5. The faces we use

The intelligence facility was ready to operate. It was only a matter of Mr. Stark to arrive so they could run the last tests. Once that part of her job was over, Shuri couldn’t help feeling a bit out of her element. There were probably more experienced officials to handle the diplomatic part. Someone that actually could talk with people without making them feel either stupid or confused.

Oakland was a mistake. Bringing Erik was an even bigger mistake. She didn’t know what to do with that man, especially not when he wasn’t even willing to talk to her. Sargent Barnes had asked for permission to leave for a few days and now Shuri had only her body guards around. Nothing seemed capable of keeping her distracted for long and the Erik situation was making her nights sleepless.

She wanted to go home and hide somewhere simple and safe. Somewhere she was familiar and comfortable with. Even keeping up a positive attitude and a smile was proving to be difficult.

The kimoyo beads on her wrist started to buzz, indicating that someone was trying to contact her. Shuri picked up the call, hoping it would be her mother to check on her as usual. To her surprise, the face she saw was that of her brother.

“Hey brother!” She tried to sound cheerful and happy so he wouldn’t worry over her needlessly. “I was about to call you.”

“You haven’t speak a word these days. I thought something might be wrong so I wanted to check on you.” He said in his carrying voice. Sometimes he reminded her of their father and whenever T’Challa spoke it was easier for her to pretend that her Baba wasn’t gone. “Is everything fine?”

“Pretty good. The intel center is ready and I’m just waiting for Mr. Stark to show up so we can run the final tests.”

“That’s good news, although you usually sound more excited about these things.” T’Challa pointed kindly. “Are you ok, Shuri?”

“I’m good. Just a bit homesick I guess.” She answered mechanically.

“Is our cousin behaving? Is he making you upset?” T’Challa finally asked in an understanding tone.

“He is quiet, actually. We are not really talking to each other.” She shrank her shoulders and lowered her head a bit, in the same way she used to do she when she was a child and had done something wrong. “I guess I upset him. Don’t really know how to make him feel like...Like one of us.”

“Ayo reported me about your argument.” T’Challa took a deep breath. “I wasn’t happy to know that the two of you were fighting like kids, but...I can’t say that I would have done better in your place. You needed to erase his data and you needed to replace them with something believable. I guess neither of us anticipated how hard it would be on him to let go of this identity. You don’t have to be so hard on yourself.”

“I’m not really used to fail. Especially not to fail you.” At this point she could no longer pretend that she was well. Shuri wiped away the tears on the sleeves of her sweater. “And I hate him.”

“You didn’t fail me. We all need time and patience to learn how to accept this new situation. He is not the easiest person to be around, I know. He makes us uncomfortable. It’s not exactly his personality, but the fact that he reminds us of things we would rather forget.”

“Not even all the goodwill in the world will make him like us, or Wakanda. He doesn’t want to. All he wants is to see the world around him burn.” Shuri spoke angrily.

“Like any child abandoned by his village. What he wants is a home. The promised land he heard his father speak about all the time.” T’Challa closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. “I have something in mind, but I need you to find something for me.”

“What is it?” Shuri questioned.

“I want you to find out where his parents have been buried. I’ll speak with some friends and...I’ll try to bring the bodies to Wakanda without much of a fuss. We will give then a proper funeral and I’ll acknowledged the union of his parents as legitimate. N’Jobu and his wife will be buried as members of the royal family and I hope Bast will receive them in the other world so they can rest in peace.”

“This is too generous of you.” Her voice was sober and tired.

“It’s the least we can do. Pay them our respects.” T’Challa smiled at her kindly but a shadow of sadness and concern crossed his face. “I know this is being hard one you, sis. I know it must be...Frightening and overwhelming, but I know you can make it. Baba should have prepared you for the event of my absence. You must know the world and you must learn to interact with it, but not only through your inventions. N’Jadaka is probably the most difficult test you’ll face because it’s a personal matter, but...You’ll succeed. I know you will.”

“I want to go home.” She said miserably.

“I know. As soon as the embassy is inaugurate and we manage transfer the bodies to Wakanda, you can come back. I’ll name an official ambassador to take over the diplomacy.” That was mean to cheer her up, but T’Challa was never very good at it.

“What will be of N’Jadaka?” She asked with a hint of worry. There was nothing her heart desired more than to be freed of him, but Shuri also knew that Erik was worthy of pity.

“I won’t force him to come back if he decides to stay in America. We will keep an eye on him just to make sure he won’t try anything stupid again, but as long as he doesn’t cause any trouble to us, he is a free man to do as he pleases.” T’Challa looked at her with indulgent eyes for a moment. “I must go now. I’ll tell mother that you are doing great. Take care, sister.”

Shuri didn’t have the time to say goodbye and that brief chat made her heart even more heavy than it was before. She turned her attentions back to the microscope and adjusted the equipment to better analyse the sample.

That was yet another thing she had to work at. T’Challa never asked, nor mentioned it, but since Shuri learned that the heart-shape herbs had been destroyed and Nakia managed to collect only one fruit, the Princess decided to do something about it.

She had been studying the proprieties of the herb before Killmonger’s attack and some samples remained in her lab. They could be used to replace those lost, but what she was really interested at was the possibility to create a synthetic version of the potion that granted the strength of the Panther.

It was nearly identical in a molecular level. If it work the future Kings would still be able become the Black Panther even if something happened to the herbs. At least that was something for her to feel proud of. She wouldn’t rule Wakanda if Bast was merciful towards her, but that would be her legacy to her people. The Black Panther would live on even if everything else was destroyed.

Shuri locked up the sample inside a safe box that had been adapted to preserve the material. She would still have to test it, but that was a thought for another time.

Ayo was already waiting for her outside when Shuri left the building. From a distance the princess saw the same boy she had spotted talking to Erik a couple of days ago, only this time the boy wasn’t playing. He was sitting on the sidewalk with a book in hand.

Despite of Ayo’s calls, Shuri left the Dora Milaje waiting at the car while she walked toward the boy. For a second she tried to remember when was the last time she had actually spoken to a kid. Not asking them to leave either a hut so she could check on Sargent Barnes, or the crypts. Actually talking to a child while being interested in what they had to say.

Shuri stopped by his side, making the boy to turn his head and look up to her. He had an annoyed expression on his face for a while, as if she had distracted him from a very important thing.

“Hello.” She tried to sound amiable although she had no idea of what she was doing.

“Oh…!” The boy seemed to recognize her face and that made him jump back to his feet. He looked at her with a bit of exasperation before making an awkward reverence. “Your Highness...”

Shuri couldn’t help laughing at the gesture. It was odd, but it was also cute how he seemed honestly compelled to pay her reverence.

“Nah..! Get up.” She said in a teasing tone. “No need to call me by the title. I don’t really want people asking for autographs.”

“Not that you can pass by unnoticed though.” The boy pointed while looking at her carefully. “You are pretty...And colorful. Like...Really colorful.”

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.” Shuri answered with a smirk. “What’s your name?”

“So N’Jadaka didn’t speak of me.” The boy didn’t sound upset. He actually sounded teasing and sarcastic. “Here I thought we were friends. My name is Jackson, but you can call me Jax.”

“I am Shuri. Nice to meet you, Jax.” She replied.

“I know. I saw you on TV the other day. Your name is way easier to speak than your cousin’s.” Jax pointed.

“Why don’t you call him by his American name then?” She questioned with honest curiosity and Jax made a bit of a face.

“He doesn’t seem to like it. Besides...I bet he chose the name so kids wouldn’t mock him at school or something like this.” Jax explained. “His real name is cool.”

“I never really thought about that, but you are probably right.” Shuri agreed and for a second she felt bad about calling her cousin by that name all the time.

“He said you were a genius, but not the best at social skills.” Jax pointed with a smirk. “I think you are just a bit distracted.”

“Is he talking behind my back then?” What he could possibly say about her to a child?!

“Not really. We mostly play basketball when he isn’t busy with something at the community center. He keeps saying will be awesome there, but nah...It’s just a community center.”

“What do you know about Wakanda?” That sentence came out in a rather cocky tone.

“I know it’s a country in Africa. T’Challa is king and he is your brother. You guys have a bit of vibranium, which is the metal used to make Captain’s shield. For some reason you guys also have freaking cool planes or...Helicopters? What are those things anyway?! There’s also a bunch of bald women walking around with spears whenever you guys show up here. It’s weird and scary in a very good way.”

“You know...Those air crafts are not even the best we have to show.” Shuri said proudly. “And vibranium should have a better use than to build a Frisbee.”

“He said you are a scientist, so my bet is that you don’t make Frisbee balls.”

“No, I don’t. I do much better.” Shuri agree with a wide smile. “You should come and see our designs once we open. You also sound like an intelligent young man. We will be offering some scholarships soon...Maybe you should apply for one of them.”

“I guess I can try.” Jax looked at her in an odd evaluative way as if he was trying to make up his mind about her. “You are not bad, you know? I guess he is just upset about something you did.”

“Yeah...I guess I...I was very harsh on him, but I can’t change what I did now.” She said without knowing how much Erik had told the boy.

“Say you are sorry. It’s the only thing you can do anyway.” Oh sweet child...What did he knew about Erik’s personal taste for vendetta?

“Don’t think it’s that simple, but I’ll try.” Shuri answered.

“He likes you, I guess. Not like...Not like a girlfriend. Don’t get it wrong, ‘cos I’m too young to die. He just...He likes you. He keeps saying you smart, genius, whatever...”

“I am smart and...I kind of get people mad quite easily.”

“Yeah...Me too.” Jax said soberly. “I must go now, but can you give this to him?” The boy gave her the book he had in hands.

Shuri took the book and looked at the cover. Shakespeare’s Henry IV, part I and II.

“I guess I’ve never read this one. I only know Romeo and Juliet. English literature was never something people bothered to teach me.”

“I like the plays. I think N’Jadaka kind of sounds like Prince Hal, so I thought it would be a good idea to give him this one.”

“I will tell him. See you, Jax.” Shuri said before the boy ran away back to his house.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Barnes was gone for a couple of days at that point and that made Erik feel even more isolated inside the house. He was already considering to move to a hotel, if only that was an option. It was very unlikely that Shuri would agree with that, so exercising was the only thing that gave him a sense of control over his life.

The only person he was actually speaking to was Jax and Erik was constantly divided between staying around talking to the kid and strangle him for never shutting up.

The kid was smart and quite advanced for his age, which often made the other kids feel dumb and insecure and made Jax a perfect target for bullies. He just wanted to blend with others in school, or feel as if he actually was a part of the group and wasn’t it exactly what Erik wanted to?

Under their skin, wasn’t it what all of them had in common? A need for belonging, acceptance and a place didn’t feel hostile all the fucking time.

For years he thought this place would be Wakanda. In his childhood, especially once his father died, he started to believe that Wakanda was the place were everything would be better for him. A kid from Oakland walking around believing in fairy tales wasn’t someone other kids were particularly kind to.

Wakanda wasn’t any better in that. Suspicious and distrusting of him since the first moment he stepped into the throne room. Not that Erik could actually blame them for disliking a man that show up at their door to change _status quo._ Perhaps T’Challa had been the only one to actually take the time to listen to what Erik had to say. Even in their rivalry, T’Challa was the ever honorable man; whiling to face the past mistakes of his people and correct them. At least some of them.

They had radically different perspectives on Wakanda’s role in the world, but in the end they actually agreed that isolation was no longer an option. Cowardice was no longer an option.

He turned on the TV to check on the news. This little ordinary moments at least helped him to relax, to feel like a normal guy for a change.

“ _Tony Stark is meeting with the Royal Princess of Wakanda this week. According the Pepper Potts, CEO of the Stark Industries, Mr. Stark seeks to help the poor country to develop it’s technology and_ _improve the life conditions in Wakanda. The meeting is to take place at the Wakandan Cultural_ _C_ _enter that will be inaugurate this week. The partnership between King T’Challa and Tony Stark will also offer to young gifted children scholarships in tech and science.”_

Erik sat on his bed and looked at the TV carefully as if something in that piece of news simply wasn’t right.

Wakanda still being mentioned as a poor country could pass as part of T’Challa’s plan to opening the country slowly, but what kind of interest a man like Tony Stark could have in Wakanda? _Vibranium, you idiot!_ His brain almost screamed at him for such a stupid question.

But was it all? Vibranium was good enough to get Stark’s attention in a commercial level, but what else? Erik knew T’Challa to be acquainted with some Avengers, although the terms of this acquaintance were unclear to him. Was it possible that the mighty Black Panther would get into the club or was it something else?

Shuri was probably one of the few people in the world that Stark could talk eye to eye to. Someone who had a whole new perspective on vibranium and its uses. Someone who could actually improve the Avengers’ defenses and even the weapons should another NY kind of event happened again.

Holly shit! That was it! T’Challa was helping them! His smooth ass cousin was helping the Avengers right under Erik’s nose and baby princess was conducting the whole thing in her brother’s behalf! _Philanthropy my ass!_ That was why she was there!

That sneaky bastard! How much more they were hiding behind the whole diplomacy thing? Probably samples of Wakandan tech and surveillance systems, maybe even something related with the medical stuff. Shuri was probably laughing her ass about about Captain’s shield. Erik did once he found out it was made of vibranium. What a fucking waste of good stuff!

He was perplexed by his epiphany for a while, only being dragged back to reality once he heard someone knocking at the door repeatedly. Even when he wasn’t in the mood for interacting with the security squad, he shouted for whoever it was to enter.

Erik just didn’t expected to see Shuri standing at the door with the face of a kid that had broken her mom’s favorite vase. At first he didn’t know how to react. He was divided between angers and an odd sort of relief. Erik have had silence for most of his life and going back to Oakland just to be silent again was eating his sanity.

“What do you want, Princess?” Even if Erik was willing to call for a truce, he didn’t want her to ever thing that he had lowered his defenses. Shuri didn’t seem to be offended by his poor behavior. Instead she handled him a book.

“This is for you.” She said awkwardly. “Jax asked me to give it to you.”

“Thank you.” Erik looked at the book as if waiting for it to turn into a snake. “You didn’t have to bother. The kid would find a way to give it to me one way or another.”

“He said he wanted you to have this because you remind him of Prince Hal…? I guess this is it.” Shuri explained. She sounded like a very nervous student trying to explain a project.

“Yeah...I know the character.” Erik nod. “Although I prefer him in Henry V. Anyway, thanks.”

There was an awkward silence for a second, so dense and oppressive that it could asphyxiate them any moment.

“I wanted to...” Shuri started although the words were proving to be hard to find. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I was...It wasn’t right. What I did...I should have talked to you first and I definitely shouldn’t have said a great deal of things that night. It’s not easy for me to understand how people can feel attached to certain things. How it can be hurtful to lose them, so...I’m sorry.”

Anger was still poisoning his blood, but the honesty in Shuri’s voice diluted it somehow. Could he really blame her for being like that? He was the monster that invaded her house, whiling to destroy everything. Could he really blame that girl for wanting to hurt him?

“I shouldn’t have called you an entitled bitch either.” Erik said as he lowered is head a bit. “So...That’s it. Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll try to behave while we are here.”

“I have something to tell you.” Shuri added awkwardly. “T’Challa told be about his decision today, so I thought you might like to know.”

“What is it now?” Erik looked at her suspiciously.

“We will try to move your parents’ bodies to Wakanda.” Shuri said. “We will give them both a proper funeral, as members of the royal family.”

“My mom wasn’t royalty. She was an ordinary woman. My father was always reluctant about saying he would take her to Wakanda. It was clear that she would never be accepted as a suitable woman for a prince.” There was bitterness to his voice and also a sadness that would never leave him. Shuri shook her head lightly.

“Their marriage will be recognized as valid. She will be buried as a Princess of Wakanda. T’Challa is calling for some favors. I don’t think it will take long.” Shuri tried to sound cheerful while Erik tried to digest what that meant for him and most of all...What it meant for his parents’ memory. “What was her name?”

“Erica. Her name was Erica.” He raised his head to look at her for a second. That seemed to confuse the princess a bit. “I got a chance to pick a different name when I was sent to the first foster home. They didn’t think my name to be adequate. I chose my mother’s name. Stevens was her family name.”

“That’s really...Thoughtful of your.” Shuri said and there was a slightly emotional tone to her voice. It was almost sweet to hear it. Erik couldn’t remember the last time he heard a woman’s voice talking to him in such a...Delicate way.

“I suppose I’ll have to thank T’Challa for this.” His voice broke as he tried to fight back his own tears. “My father...He always wanted to go back home. Wherever he is, I think he is happy to know that his body will rest there.”

“Consider it our way of calling for a truce.” Shuri replied calmly. “For better of for worst, you are family.”

“You know I would never grant you the same privilege, don’t you?” Erik questioned skeptically. “I would never let you bury your brother if I had killed him at Bashenga’s Mountain.”

“I know.” Shuri said as a matter of fact. “I hate you for everything you did. Not exactly for taking the crown but for almost killing my brother and taking my home away from me. Even so...I think I can understand your reasons for hating us so much.”

“You couldn’t understand feelings unless they were encrypted.” He snorted sarcastically. “It’s not your fault, I think. They never really let you get out of that palace, did they?”

“It was not their fault either. Leaving the palace and my lab often sound overwhelming and exhausting. Talking to people about my age was the most frustrating experience I had to deal with. Being inside the palace was comfortable and easier.” Shuri explained. “You are not wrong. It is easier for me to break an encrypted code than to interact with people most of the time. My mother and T’Challa are probably the only ones I feel comfortable with, but not really because the understand what I say.”

“It was somewhat like this for a while. I had this secret. I knew about a fairy tale land that I couldn’t speak of with anyone and I graduated from MIT at nineteen so...It’s not as if kids my age actually knew shit about what I liked. It doesn’t give us the best social skills, but at least gives us common ground to start a civilized relationship.”

“I guess so.” She agreed. “I think I’ll try to sleep now so...Goodnight, N’Jadaka.”

It seemed that Shuri would never stop doing that. The girl was getting used to break him piece by piece every time they talked. First because she tried to erase his past, then because she acknowledged it along with his true identity. To hear her calling his name for the first time felt like a hard blow and also a soothing balm. For a moment he felt warm as if a cozy blanket had been wrapped around him and when one had only known violence in life, a sudden display of kindness could be scary as fuck.

“Goodnight, Shuri.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who wanted more of Jax, here it is. I hope you like it and reviews are highly appreciated.


	6. Looking At You

The mood inside the house improved drastically after Shuri called for a truce between them. In fact, Erik was almost happy for a while. Knowing that his father and mother would receive a proper burial, according to Wakanda’s tradition and the royal family’s protocol felt like an accomplished mission.

He remembered the vision he had after taking the heart-shape herb. His father sitting inside that tinny apartment, looking at him with regret, guilt and sadness. _“Look at what I’ve done.”_ He had said it to his only son who seemed to be perpetually divided between an abandoned child and a man moved by rage.

_Look at what I’ve done..._ Erik kept hearing those words inside his head for a long time while he recovered at Shuri’s lab. In the end it was partially his fault that his father’s soul seemed to be trapped inside that apartment, just like Erik was. Both of them lost; both of them lonely; both of them abandoned. At least his Baba would find his way home while Erik would keep trying to figure out if there would ever be a place he could call that.

Erik couldn’t call that delicate contentment gratitude. Not when that odd dance between him and his cousins seemed to have reached a vertiginous pace. He still wanted to know what sort of business Shuri had with Stark and how it could implicate Erik’s ambitions. It was one thing to fight T’Challa in single combat when both stood in even conditions, it was another thing entirely if the Black Panther had the Avengers to back him up.

Still...Curiosity killed the cat and what was a Jaguar if not a feline?

Shuri often underestimated his abilities, even though he had managed to take over her lab once. Whatever it was that she was trying to hide under the cultural center, Erik would find his way into it out of sheer stubbornness, pride and fun.

Stark would arrive any time at that moment and it was for the best to meet the man properly and Erik had some vanity in him. His black suit and black shirt looked sober and simple enough, but his status demanded a dash of color.

He had found that scarf while roaming the streets randomly. With the Wakandan royals visiting the city it wasn’t exactly a surprise that some shops were trying to sell more colorful items with an African touch. The scarf actually looked Wakandan and was made of soft cashmere. The mustard color fabric highlighted the geometric pattern of the black and brown print. Erik let the scarf fall over his shoulders in a way that reminded him of a Catholic priest. It was better than to copy T’Challa’s UN style so bluntly and still made him look regal.

He let his hair fall over his eyes again and let the shirt’s collar open without a tie to make him feel like a panther on a leash. His glasses gave him an intellectual look, but in a more practical approach they would prevent him from getting migraines in the long run.

Erik was waiting at the hall for Shuri to get ready so they could go to the cultural center. He wasn’t the most patient man on earth and Shuri liked to test the limits of it. How long could a girl that was little more than a teenager could take to get inside a fucking dress was beyond his comprehension.

The Princess appeared at the hall eventually and when she did the awkward silence was a inevitable.

It was by far the most sober outfit he ever saw her wearing, but it wasn’t the fact that she looked more like a sophisticate woman than a rebel teenager what called his attention. It was the fact that her dress, with its straight lines and geometric motifs, was black and gold.

It looked like they were trying to match their clothes in a way that made them look like a very colorful couple with a thing for fashion. Shuri noticed it too and made a face.

“I should probably change to something else.” She said out of frustration.

“It’s fine. You look good. We will be late if you go change again.” Erik answered in an impatient tone.

“Won’t it look odd? We are looking like two pieces of a set.” Shuri argued, making Erik roll his eyes.

“Blame it on some random cultural reason. Whatever you can come up with until we get there.” He suggested impatiently. “Say it is...I don’t know. For good luck or because it has to do with some royal extravagant protocol thing. It’s not as if Americans would know the truth anyway.”

“T’Challa won’t like it.” Shuri made another face. “He will see the pictures eventually and there is a cultural reason for it. My parents used to match whenever there was some ceremonial event, like every royal couple usually does to represent the tribe!”

“We tell T’Challa it was an accident. It’s not as if this...” He pointed to himself and her. “Was something remotely possible anyway. Now let’s go, woman!”

Shuri eventually gave up but once they left the house to get into the car the Dora Milaje’s faces made him regret his choices for a moment. They looked at them as if Shuri and Erik had been caught fucking or something like that.

Erik wasn’t the kind of guy that gets embarrassed for no reason, but that ride to the cultural center sure felt like another blend of Wakandan torture. Why hasn’t his father ever mentioned that kind of thing?! He was a prince and yet he had a total of zero knowledge of protocol.

“Are you ok?” Shuri asked half way to the cultural center.

“Why nobody bothered to tell me the protocol before?” He mumbled.

“What were the odds of we picking up the same color pallet?” Shuri replied.

“Don’t know. Great minds think alike, I guess.” He answered.

“Yours is not that great, cousin.” Shuri replied with sarcasm. Oh that brat surely knew how to get on his nerves.

“Just because you prefer to underestimate me, doesn’t mean that I’m no match for your brain. I’m actually thrilled with the chance of meeting Stark. I have gone through several of his projects during my MIT time for research.”

“Oh I’m sure you two will love to compete about who has the biggest ego. I doubt we will have enough room to accommodate both of you.”

“It’s not as if yours was a tinny one, Princess. I’m pretty sure you’ll try to make Stark look dumb as fuck half way through the night.”

“Well, it’s not my fault that he got his hands on a sample of vibranium and the best idea his company could come up with was to make a Frisbee with it.”

“It was his father’s prototype actually. World War II invention. That thing is almost as old as Captain himself.” He smirked at her. “See? I know some shit too.”

“Whatever.” Shuri rolled her eyes. “Let’s make a deal. I teach you about royal protocol and you teach me everything you know about Tony Stark and American culture that might be relevant to us.”

“That’s pretty vague, Princess.” Erik replied. “I’m not even sure if you know what a burger is.”

Shuri rolled her eyes at that and Erik could help laughing at her face.

“You came along for a reason, just...Don’t let me insult anyone out of cultural ignorance.” She sounded annoyed, but she was trying to conceal her smile.

“Fine. I’ll keep you out of trouble.” The car stopped in front of the cultural center, where journalists, flocked the entrance trying to get a glimpse of the shinny event that would bring to town a bunch of rich and important people.

It was intimidating to think that it was the first time he would step into the light as Prince N’Jadaka of Wakanda. The first time he would embrace that legacy without the bloodshed and the dubious plots. He could only hope that his father was watching over him with proud eyes for a change.

He took a deep breath and for a second he hesitated out of fear and insecurity. Erik was taken by surprise all of a sudden by the most unexpected gesture. Shuri’s hand placed above his and a gentle squeeze of encouragement. Erik looked at her out of confusion.

“Don’t worry. You look good.” She said in an attempt of sympathy. “You look like a Prince, like your father’s son.”

Again he felt vulnerable in front of her. So utterly helpless at the touch of a woman that Erik almost felt like a teenager again. One that never knew what to say, or how to be nice toward a girl. He was mute. Words died at his throat, blocked by confusion and the ambiguous feeling he had whenever he looked at Shuri for too long.

Erik opened the door and got out of the car just to be blinded by all the flashes. He offered Shuri a hand to help her out of the car as everything got confusing and terrifying. The cacophony all around them; random undistinguished questions shouted at them by avid birds of prey. They walked into the building without giving answers.

It took a while to believe that to be the same place he lived during his childhood. Everything was so bright, colorful and shinny that Erik could barely believe his eyes. The ground floor had been converted into an ample hall with marble floor. There was also a library filled with books on Wakandan history, along with modern devices for online researches that seemed to come out of a Star Track movie.

Something in the decoration reminded him of T’Challa’s palace, only more festive given the decoration for the event. It looked like something he might have dreamed of when he was a child. Representatives and officers from other African countries attended, along with a number of business men and women, eager to get their hands on the vibranium and sell whatever they had to sell to what they considered to be nothing but a third world country.

“What do you think?” Shuri whispered the question.

“It’s...Extraordinary.” He answered under his breath before they could be dragged around by one guest or another.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Being surrounded by so many individuals and blinded by all the flashlights was overwhelming. Shuri felt dizzy and confused most of the time and whenever she had to talk to someone it took her a great deal of will power to focus on whatever was being said to her.

Erik was walking about the hall like that spy guy from her father’s favorite movies. What was the number again? 005? Whatever! He looked like that guy; all wrapped up in a fancy suite and wearing that colorful scarf, sipping whiskey and looking around like a jaguar monitoring a prey.

He didn’t look comfortable, but he didn’t look exasperated either. Erik was perfectly indifferent to all the buzz, almost bored, although she had witnessed his moment of hesitation inside the car. That wasn’t a role either of them was used to perform, but Erik’s insecurities lied somewhere else.

Shuri was distracted reading her speech to the press and guests at the party. Too distracted to notice the man standing in front of her for a whole minute.

“It’s good to see you again, Your Highness.” The man said, dragging Shuri back to reality to face him.

Agent Ross was standing in front of her with his ever friendly face and curious eyes. She couldn’t tell if he was there on official business or simply out of curiosity, but Shuri wouldn’t make assumptions about his intentions that night.

“It’s a pleasure, Agent Ross.” Shuri answered with a smile. “I hope you are enjoying the party.”

“I am. I am.” He said nodding with his head. “Wonderful thing. I can’t wait to see all the gadgets your brought with you, but I couldn’t helping that you also brought Wakanda’s enemy number one to this event.” His voice was suddenly hushed and nervous. “What the hell is that man doing here?! After everything he did...T’Challa knows about it?”

“N’Jadaka is here on my brother’s orders. I would never bring him along if I had a choice on the matter.” Shuri answered immediately. “Anyway, it doesn’t concern the US Government. N’Jadaka is our business and it within our sovereignty to chose how to deal with him.”

“No. No, Your Highness. Once that man was ready to declare war on every nation he declared as a colonizer, it’s no longer only your sovereignty in check. This country’s defense was in peril to and I can’t simply seat here and do nothing about it.”

“N’Jadaka fought for the throne and he lost in the second time. He would be dead if it wasn’t for T’Challa’s decision to save him. Right now he is not a danger.” Although she said it, Shuri wasn’t completely sure of that. There was a part of her that refused to believe that a man that was capable of play with a random kid he barely knew was beyond salvation.

“What guarantees you have that he is no longer a threat?” Ross asked exasperated as his face got bright red. “I know pretty well what you and Stark are developing under this building and believe me...After New York I’m all for improving security and the Avengers, but this...This Killmonger can ruin everything! I...The US Government won’t stand by watching this and do nothing.”

“Why don’t you go back to your superiors and tell them that this is, as the Princess said, a Wakandan business and say that the guy...What it’s his name again? N’Ja...N’Jaba...N’Jaka...Whatever his name is, is under the Avenger’s supervision from now on. We took down aliens, a megalomaniac god, a sci-fi Pinocchio and Zemo. I guess we can deal with Prince Charming over there.” The second man Shuri knew only from the news and from his roaring reputation.

Tony Stark sipped his whiskey after giving the commands to Ross, acting as if he really had any authority over the CIA Agent. Shuri was speechless for a moment.

“If you are so sure, Mr. Stark...I just advise you to not underestimate Erik Stevens. He was trained by us and he does have a brain as good as yours and a taste for violence.” Ross insisted while Stark looked at him with a very bored expression upon his face.

“Noted, Agent Ross. Now...If you excuse us, I have much to discuss with the only brain in this room that is a match to mine and you are ruining what was meant to be a pleasant night in the company of this young and brilliant beauty that is Princess Shuri.”

Ross didn’t say anything else. He simply turned around, obviously enraged and embarrassed by Mr. Stark’s intrusion. Shuri didn’t know what to say and even if she knew Tony Stark would never let her have the first word. He looked at her with annoyance.

“Now seriously. What the hell was your brother thinking about when he sent that man here? Did you think I would be so stupid to not looking into his files? You are damn good while covering your track and erasing his past, but I am not amateur. T’Challa should know better than to try to fool me.” Stark questioned in exaggerate disbelief. “Or was it your idea to get down from that car looking like Prom Queen and King? Was it a teenage drama I would be rooting for the cute couple to get together at the end, but when Prom Queen is helping me with an intel system the last thing I want is for Prom King with a rogue past to be around.”

“You should ask my brother, Mr. Stark. Sending N’Jadaka here was his idea and I was against it as I said to Agent Ross.” Shuri explained. “I’ve been very careful with the security system of our facilities here and he doesn’t know a thing about it.”

“Or so you say. Really now...What is the excuse for your new bad boy boyfriend to be here? Here I thought my intern had a problematic taste in girls, but it seems that I’ll have to seat with you and Peter so we can all discuss how bad it is to date the bad guy or the bad guy’s daughter for that matter.”

“First of all, we are not dating. He is my cousin! This is not about the Avengers, or our project or even about Wakanda’s new position in the international scenario. This is first and foremost a family affair. We have several issues to solve before he can decide what to do with his life, but this is none of your business, Mr. Stark.”

“Make sure it won’t become my business, Your Highness. I would hate to deal with a colleague's relative, but I’ll do it if I feel that this project is somehow compromised by this marry family gathering.”

“If you excuse me, Mr. Stark, I have a speech to make for the press. Enjoy the party and try to stay sober. Miss Potts warned me that you are not the best sort of guest to have after a couple of drinks.”

Shuri grabbed a glass of champagne on her way to the stage that had been prepared for her to address the guests and the press in a brief speech. She barely registered the taste of the drink as she tried to reach the microphone and be done with the formalities. Tony Stark was a problem she would deal with latter, but she needed to put an end to all those questions about N’Jadaka first.

One she got on stage with the microphone in hand and looked at all those people looking at her with curious eyes a wave of panic took over her. Shuri tried to breathe and keep calm, but all to no avail. She was frozen, just like her brother used to freeze whenever he saw Nakia. No words came to her mind. Not a single one and Shuri never felt so stupid before.

The only thing she felt after a long and awkward silence was a strong hand touching her right shoulder. Shuri turned her face to look at the person who was trying to call her attention just to find N’Jadaka standing there.

“Would you mind if I spoke a few words, cousin?” He asked in a whisper close to her ear. “Don’t worry. I’m just trying to spare you the stress. Take a deep breath and let me give them what they want, will you?”

Shuri nod and handled him the microphone reluctantly. That was everything he needed to drive all the attention to himself and let her breathe again.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” N’Jadaka said confidently, in a way that reminded her not of T’Challa, but of her own father. “I would like to thank you all for your presence and interest in this extraordinary project, but first I would like to thank Her Highness, Princess Shuri, and His Majesty, King T’Challa, for this very thoughtful gesture.” He turned to look at her with a fond smile and Shuri noticed what a great actor he could be when he wanted to. “As the news said, I lived in the United States for most of my life. When it was decided that Wakanda would open up to the world to share what we have of best and effectively play an active part in the international scenario, His Majesty’s first idea was to present our culture to others. Let the world know our roots and origins first. The cultural center was Princess Shuri’s idea, being her a benevolent soul that is most concerned with the education of young people and it was also her idea to build it here, in Oakland. Anything I say about Her Highness’ talents and virtues will be insufficient to describe her uniqueness, but let me explain why Oakland.” At least he had embraced the role she had crafted for him, although Shuri doubted that his help would come without a price. “I spent most of my childhood here. I grew up as any other boy, playing basketball and wishing for my father to finish his business here so we could go back to Wakanda. My father passed away and suddenly I didn’t feel ready to go back home so soon, so I stayed and concluded my education until it was time to salute a new King. His Majesty received me with open arms and in honor to my father’s memory he picked Oakland to serve as Wakanda’s first international cultural post. This is why we are here tonight. Now I give you Her Royal Highness, Princess Shuri Udaku of Wakanda; the patron of this institution.”

He looked back at her and offered back the microphone. At that point she had recovered her breath and could actually go on with all the lies he had said to improve her own. Shuri accepted the microphone and this time she managed to smile at the audience.

“Thank you for all these kind words, N’Jadaka.” She said nervously. “This project is very dear to our hearts for many reasons and family is certainly the main one. Most of you have heard His Majesty’s speech at the United Nations’ Assembly and it’s only natural that it made all of you curious. For the first time in its history, Wakanda steps into the light and shows her bright and vibrant colors for everyone to see. We live in a turbulent and often violent world, full of injustices and intolerance. It is my belief that if we want to have a better future we must first accept each other as members of one big tribe, one big family, and it is a tribe’s duty to look after its children. The children who isn’t embraced by the tribe as an adult will burn it down just to feel its warmth.” She felt a sudden rush of confidence take over her as all the eyes stared without even blink. “My brother spoke of building bridges in times of crisis. This is the first one of many and it’s only fair that Wakanda chose to embrace the children first and invest in their potential and intelligence. We embrace the children and we teach them, so the adults they will become will look back to the world with wise and kind eyes.”

She should have said more, but the roaring sound of the applause made it impossible for her to go on with the speech. Shuri just didn’t expected to see N’Jadaka clapping his hands as well.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cute couple with a shared interest in fashion. I hope you like it and reviews are appreciated.


	7. The colors of the sunrise

The party went on for hours and the only thing Erik could think about was that he wanted to get out of that fucking place as soon as possible. Journalists and photographers wouldn’t stop taking pictures and trying to get from him a declaration worthy of the headlines of the morning edition of the East Bay Times. He wasn’t willing to cooperate with them, not when that night was meant to be all about the cultural center and the good things it could bring to the community.

It was also about not calling for unwanted attention to himself, especially not from the CIA Agent that had helped T’Challa to take Erik down. Agent Ross wouldn’t stop looking at him during the party which was a basic mistake for someone who worked with intelligence.

Erik was also concerned with Tony Stark and how he could ruin any of N’Jadaka’s attempts to take back the throne. He wasn’t completely sure if Stark’s collaboration with Wakanda was solely based on an unlikely friendship between the Iron Man and the Black Panther or if there was something else. Something more pragmatic and heavily entwined with the Avengers and the US Government. It that was the case, a change of rulers in Wakanda wouldn’t be in Stark’s best interests, unless he could gain something from it.

His brief speech had been a way to show him in a different light. One that was none-threatening and diplomatic. It was also about being friendly towards Princess Shuri. It was evident that the girl froze at the moment she looked at all those unfamiliar faces staring at her. She was and would always be brilliant, but public events were way too far from her natural element.

Erik could say for sure if his improvisation worked well or not, but eventually Ross came to talk to him.

“You almost convinced me.” The CIA Agent said. “If I didn’t know you and your records, I would actually think that you are a very loyal subject and cousin to T’Challa.”

“Well...Once the man decided to spare my life when he was within his rights to kill me, I was forced to accept that he might not be as bad as I thought.” Erik replied casually. “Besides, better be a prince of Wakanda, than a mercenary from nowhere with nothing but a desire for personal vendetta. We must learn to pick our fights, don’t you think?”

“I don’t believe loyalty is a particular trace of your personality, nor I believe that you are willing to simply stand by and let the man you grew up hating to rule a country that you felt entitled to.” Ross was cautious with his words, but no less incisive. “I particularly dislike your proximity to the Princess.”

“Jealous, old man?” Erik grinned at him, letting Ross see a flash of his golden teeth. “You are just another old perv, aren’t you?”

“Definitely not, but I know what I see. The two of you look surprisingly close.” Ross pointed. “I’m not much of a fashionista, but matching clothes are quite a display.”

“Believe it or not, it was just a coincidence. If anything I should have changed my scarf, since it’s no big deal, but we were late. My first attempt at Wakandan fashion style and I wanted to play safe. So safe that Princess had picked the same colors I chose. I’m either doing something right or something very wrong, but I’ll only know for sure if T’Challa decides to call me just to give me a lecture. Fear not. I don’t care for the Princess. Shuri is just a minor inconvenience I must handle in this mission, before I can go back to Wakanda to decide what to do with my life.”

“Why are you here exactly?” Ross didn’t a buy a single word from him.

“T’Challa wanted someone familiar with the US to escort his sister. In a way I’m serving as a consultant. Shuri only knows what movies told her about this country and it ain’t that much. She also has problems dealing with people and I can try to smooth things for her.”

“Not that you are exactly a social butterfly. I doubt a mercenary could ever be that diplomatic.”

“There’s plenty you don’t know about me, Agent Ross.” Erik smiled calmly. “You look at my face and the only thing you see is the poor kid that grew up to become a product of violence. A trouble maker at heart. A little delinquent to be dealt with. I am my father’s son though. You might not have known him, but he was a classy man. Soft spoken, highly intelligent and, unlike his brother, he never got numbed by the repeated violence he witnessed. My father had a great heart. Had him be the eldest son, he would have been a great king.”

“And you still think yourself to be better than T’Challa.” Ross noticed.

“Not better. I just have the kind of worldly experience that my cousin lacks. T’Challa never once had to witness the sort of atrocities that happen outside his borders. Princess is no better than her brother in this. At least T’Challa isn’t indifferent, he just doesn’t have a clue on how to fix the past mistakes.”

“You think you know what to do? How to deal with Wankanda’s new international politics? Declaring war against the world for the sake of your misguided messianic complex?”

“I know that this country won’t look at us with kind eyes.” Erik corrected. “Vibranium is way too precious and that girl over there is almost a little witch that knows how to bend this metal to her will. You will either try to destroy us to take away everything that make us great, or you’ll try to explore it in somewhat legal terms, just to stab us on our backs in the long run. Don’t even try to deny it, Ross. We both know how this system works from inside; invading, bringing down governments, unleashing chaos until the country is so broken that the only option is to turn to the enemy and beg for help. Look at my face and dare say that it won’t happen to my country.”

“I honestly hope you are indeed being loyal and not just another snake on the grass waiting to bite.” Ross warned.

“And I honestly hope you won’t be foolish to think that, should you act against Wakanda, T’Challa won’t defend the country. I’ll make sure he knows exactly what to expect from America and how to fight back.” Erik replied sharply. “Now...Princess over there. Don’t even think about getting near. Should anything happen to Shuri, I’ll know exactly who to blame and were to find the involved.”

“For someone who isn’t interested, you surely sound...Protective of her.” Ross teased, but Erik knew better. Vibranuim was a natural resource, but to work the metal it was necessary someone who knew what to do. Not even Stark could ever dream of using vibranium in the same way Shuri did so effortlessly. Shuri was a strategic advantage. A decisive component.

“Nah...I just know what your people is capable of to get their hands on someone like her.” Erik shrank his shoulders. “Without her, getting your hands on vibranium will be useless. What will Stark do? A boomerang? Some blades? Near her you guys look like a bunch of cavemen trying to make some fire while Shuri and her team already deal in nanotechnology and clean energy that looks like something out of Star Track.”

“I’ll try to believe all this casual talking of yours, but the way you praise her...With your looks and small talk, I wouldn’t be surprised if something happened between you. I just wonder how long it would take for T’Challa to kick you out for messing around with his little sister.”

“The way you praise my looks and small talk makes me thing that you are actually hitting on me, Ross. Sorry, but you are not my type and this chitchat is over.”

Erik turn his back on Ross and grabbed another drink. The party was nearly over and he wanted to go back to the house for a good night of sleep, before he could try to find out Shuri’s secret project.

After half an hour, Shuri came to him. She looked tired and annoyed with all the guests she had to deal with for most of the night.

“I guess we can go now.” Shuri declared. “I’m pretty much done with this event and I need to sleep.”

“That makes two of us.” Erik point. “To be honest, I fell like grabbing something to eat on our way home.”

“This is a party. There was plenty of food for you to eat.” Shuri rolled her eyes.

“Yeah...Finger food, appetizers...I would have to eat a whole platter to consider it a light supper. I’m talking about real food. I’m pretty sure we can get a breakfast burrito at this time. I’ll sleep like a baby after one of those.”

“Is this even a breakfast kind of food?!” She looked at him scandalized. Oh...Cultural differences could be so fun at times.

“It is in Oakland. Bast knows I had plenty of those especially when I had a massive hangover.” He explained.

“I don’t think I ever tried a burrito before.” Shuri said. She didn’t seem convinced by his arguments.

“See? This is why you need to keep me around to survive this city. ‘Cmon, Princess. I need carbs and fat to shake away the alcohol effect and you could do with some comfort food too.”

“Yeah...I guess I’m hungry too. Couldn’t eat a thing with all the hostess thing.” Shuri agreed, making him grin pleased.

They walked away from the building, closely followed by the security team. The would rise soon and it was only fair that both of them felt exhausted. Ayo drove silently and Erik gave the directions to his favorite place for a late meal or an early one, depending on the perspective.

The restaurant was close to the shore, with a great view. No more than a tent selling good food to the night creatures looking for a bite before they could retire. The Dora Milaje stayed inside the car at Shuri’s request.

They grabbed their food and sat on a bench to eat quietly. The sun was rising and a moment as beautiful as that demanded some reverence. There was something holly and magical to those vibrant colors. Wakanda’s sunset was probably the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, but Oakland’s sunrise was to him a sign of rebirth.

“It’s beautiful here.” Shuri finally said before biting her burrito. “And this…Is very good!” She said with her mouth full and she looked delighted at every bite.

“Told you.” Erik replied. He wasn’t sure if the food was actually good or if he was hungry as fuck. “It’s not Wakanda, but Oakland has its own beauty. I missed the sea.”

“I like to see the seagulls flying and feel the breeze.” Shuri confessed. “It so different from home.”

“Yeah...There’s nothing quite like Wakanda, you know? That place looks like something I might have dreamed of as a child. El Dorado, or something out of a sci-fi book. Wakanda is a part of me, even if you guys have a hard time welcoming a complete stranger into the nest. Oakland though...My roots are here. I hate the kind of life I had in this city, but when I thought about home, this what I wanted to see.”

“What will you do once our mission here is over?” Shuri asked with a bit of a frown upon her pretty face.

“Not sure. It’s not as if I had anything to hold me here, nor I have something to hold me to Wakanda.” Erik said simply.

“Maybe you could stay and help people here.” Shuri suggested. Erik grinned at that.

“Trying to get rid of me already, Princess?” He teased.

“It’s not like that. It’s just…I’ve seen you with Jax and other children. You were born here, you have a great deal of things in common with them. You could be an example, a good reference. You could be someone they would look up to.”

“I’m not the best with kids. They annoy me and Jax sticks around ‘cos that kid is stubborn as fuck.” Erik lied. He kind of liked being around Jax. The kid reminded him of a simpler kind of life.

“You still could do great things here.” Shuri insisted.

“What about you?” Erik questioned. “What will you do once the mission is done?”

“Don’t know. I’m sure this is not my place and I’ll probably go back to the safety of my lab.”

“You haven’t seen enough of the world to know where is your place. Your lab is your safety net, it’s your comfort zone. You’ll never see much or live much if you keep locking yourself inside that room.” What was he suggesting? Was he actually afraid of being on his own again? Was he asking her to stay? Why?! “If you don’t get out of that palace, you will never know how it is for a kid from the wrong neighborhood to escape all the traps the system will lay on his path.”

“I’m not sure if I am the right person to deal with people. To deal with others’ necessities.” Shuri argued. Interacting with people was indeed difficult to her. She was the princess or the great scientist. It was almost impossible to see behind those tittles who Shuri Udaku really was.

“I’m sure you can be the right person to do pretty much anything you want to.” His voice came out bitter. “You know...I hated T’Challa because he was meant to be king, but there’s nothing in him that I’m particularly envious of. I envy you though. When I broke into the lab, I was fascinated by everything inside it. The greatness of every design and every project. That’s no ordinary thing. That’s the work of a mind full of wonders and I wished I had just a drop of it inside me. T’Challa is the king, but you are the true ruler. Without you and your creations, Wakanda is just another name on the map.”

“I never knew you had such a high opinion of my work.” She was suddenly shy and her movements became erratic. “You always sounded so resentful. I was sure that no matter what we do you would always let your grudge blind you.”

“I have my bitterness, but I’m not blinded by it. I know a master piece when I see one and my opinion on the creator won’t change the work for me. I can still seat and appreciate it, just like I can seat here and appreciate this sunrise, despite all the shit that happened to me in this city.”

“Who would have guessed that you have the eyes of a poet?” Shuri teased. “You are not quite what I expected. I’ve always though men like you to be to rough to appreciate beauty in such a delicate way.”

“You too has more than the eyes can see, don’t you? Your own world; your own way of understanding and interacting with the world around you...I might have the eyes of a poet, but my guess is that your mind is the poem. Not everyone will understand the rhyme and the meanings, but they can enjoy the rhythm.”

He was probably still drunk, or just sleepy enough to talk shit about poetry, poets and praise that girl as if he wanted to get under her panties. Not that he didn’t appreciate a pretty face when he saw one – and Shuri was a beauty – it was just that...It was wrong to think shit like that. She was too young and blood related to him, which made it a complete absurd inside his mind.

Fuck his mind. He was never good at playing by the book anyway. After all those insinuations made by Agent Ross, Erik was at least curious. It had been a long time since he last had sex and why not? He was going to hell already, or whatever place of punishment Bast had prepared for him. It would also have a nice taste of vengeance to it. Fucking T’Challa’s baby sister, making the king doubt where the princess’ loyalties were placed...To hell with that. It was not as if Shuri was interested anyway. He was just wondering and his admiration for her intelligence made it all weird, but sometimes...Sometimes the booze and the sunrise get to move one’s heart and make soldiers into poets, or simply desperate for a kiss.

Erik could feel the tension in the air; the electricity and the blood running hot in his veins. His hands itched to touch her face and bring her mouth closer to his. It was a terrible idea since he would get impaled by Ayo’s spear as soon as Shuri was at a safe distance. Those were not the thoughts of a man. Those were the thoughts of a boy – no older than Jax – that used to dream of fairy tales and every fairy tale he knew had a princess in it.

Was it what she was? The final piece to the wonderful world he built inside his head? What he actually wanted from her? A kiss, for sure. Sex would be more than just desirable too, but was there something else?

Maybe it was just the freshness of her youthful energy and also the vulnerability of a girl sheltered from the world for most of her life. Admiration too. He liked intelligence in a woman, but Shuri was the first one who actually made him get his ass back to books so he would understand the concepts she muttered to herself when she was distracted. Shuri did that a lot. She talked to herself as if she was her only friend, and she probably was.

Erik wished to kiss her, but the moment was lost once Ayo honked to call them back to the car. They went back to the house in silence and at least Erik felt absolutely suffocated by his own anxiety.

The silence continued even once they got back to the house. They climbed the lathers to go to they rooms and get some sleep. Erik opened the door of his room and wondered if he should find a random girl in a bar just to settle his appetite and get those twisted ideas out of his mind.

“N’Jadaka!” Shuri’s voice called him. She was standing just a few steps ahead with her hair already freed from the complicated up-do she wore during the party.

“Yes, Princess.” He answered with a hint of hope.

“Thank you...For helping me with the speech today. I wouldn’t have managed it if you hadn’t done that. You even followed the history I created for you, so...Thank you.”

“No problem, Princess.” He said in a surprising soft tone. “Most of it was true anyway.”

“You didn’t have to save me.” Shuri said as a matter of fact.

“You don’t need anyone to save you, as far as I am concerned. I just wanted to.” He noticed how she lowered her head in a clear sign of embarrassment.

“Goodnight, N’Jadaka.” She answered simply before turning her back at him.

“Goodnight, Princess.”

Erik entered his room and locked the door. After a long showers he laid on bed and tried to sleep, but all those images of her started to pop up inside his head, making him feel angry with himself for allowing Ross to get into his head and mess up with it.

Ross was no big deal though. Erik just notice the dimension of the troubles he got into when his kymoyo beads rang and T’Challa’s angry face appeared in the hologram.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just loved all the reviews I received on the last chapter and I want to thank you all. I hope you'll enjoy this one as well and you can bet romance is not so far ahead.  
> Reviews are highly appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it and reviews are highly appreciated.


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